To Tell One Lie
by Poe's-Raven
Summary: Sara's got another mutant on her back, watching her every move- Nerida drives her victims to insanity- and Jean Grey tries to cope with life. How these three girls lives' intertwine winds its way into a pack of lies and suspicion. CANCELLED
1. Where It All Began

--Poe-Note------  
  
I have created or have friends with alter egos of--- Sara Chankey, Jen Maklo, Mike Chankey, Catie Zimmeruski, and anyone and anything not otherwise affiliated with an existing facet of popular culture. Thanks! Otherwise, all other characters belong to their rightful owners. I am not going to run through that list.  
  
Oh, this story's under construction right now. There's some major plot holes in my earlier chapters, so if it looks shaky, come back in a week or so. I should be done by June 14 with the revisions.  
  
PROLOGUE (which is several chapters)  
  
Hello? Name's Sara- Sara Britney Chankey.  
  
I like mysteries, Cardcaptor Sakura and daydreaming. I also like alter egos- I've idolized Jeckyl and Hyde, Yukito and Yue, and Team Rocket with their million and one failing plans of trying to capture Pikachu with a costume. I love Final Fantasy, read tons of manga, and have an obsession with stuffed animals. Go figure.  
  
I also have a lie. A simple little lie... that was not mine to begin with, yet it exploded like bubble gum and ended up sticking, quite unfortunately, to me.  
  
Damn it got me in trouble! And to think it all started in Public Torture 101, sometime late April, after Spring break was over and the whole school, especially the seniors, were counting down the days. Well, technically it started when I was five, but... whatever. I love to blame things on Public Torture 101. Otherwise known as... yes. PE.  
  
I hate gym- especially the gymnastics unit. Are they TRYING to get the school killed, really?  
  
The horse. The bars. The unevens. The mats. Do I have the right to say... I'm a Celebrity, Get me OUT OF HERE! I was in an Internet commercial once in fifth grade, after all.  
  
Ms. Kudo yelled, Horse! NOW!!!!  
  
Oh, SHEEP! I cried, conscious to the fact that anyone who curses in Kudo's class gets a week's worth of central detentions with the Toze. Not pretty, trust me.   
  
As usual, I heard the girls scoff their sneakers as they turned around to watch me. I have ocular albinism- a visual and skin impairment. Trouble seeing. And trouble at PE. Never could get over that horse... I clenched my fists tightly, waiting for Kudo's whistle.  
  
TWEEEEEEEEEEET!  
  
I ran, top speed, towards the horse. I thought what it would look like if I actually made that wolf vault over the horse; proud and graceful Sara at the wolf vault!  
  
Closer... Closer...  
  
I jumped, slipped, and landed face first into the mat. As usual. But when I looked back, I noticed something scary. Nobody went to help me up because they were all looking at the line. And I was...  
  
still there?


	2. White Lies

I'm there? But, I was lying on the mat, twisted...? Wasn't I?  
  
I got off the mat, brushed myself off, and wondered how I was over there. I... I think it was because I imagined it!  
  
Think of the vault again, Sara. They obviously don't see you, anyway,' I thought.  
  
I imagined, once again, myself performing the vault correctly, as I walked myself to the mat and stood up in correct formation. I looked over my shoulder to see the illusion of myself running fast and hard to the mat. But this time, the vault was performed correctly, and as the illusion hit its feet to the ground. I think I felt the imagined me go back inside, as the entire PE class went up to congratulate me on a better than perfect performance. I noticed that as I stepped of the mat they looked at me again. So that illusion wasn't permanent.  
  
But a job well done? What did _I_ even do?  
  
For the rest of PE I thought of performing a back handspring on the beam (my next test) but decided to not overdo it. Keep it simple. You have no idea what whacko is watching you and is able to see both the illusion and the real deal.  
  
Kudo, however, stopped me after class with the most evil look in her eyes. I'd say ti was scarier than coming face to face with some of the mutants they've been featuring on the news alerts. At least I knew those guys weren't going to randomly attack citizens of the miniscule Bay Head, New Jersey.  
  
That, Sara, was the most amazing progress that I've ever seen. And you, being an ocul- err, ummm (she thinks it's embarrassing to talk about my condition)  
  
You can say it- it's okay, I said simply. I was definitely used ot it.  
  
Well, your progress was incredible. And... tryouts for the gymnastics team are in two weeks. Can you show me something else on the beam? Can you do a cartwheel on it, at least? We're short on beam specialists.  
  
Er, okay.  
  
I decided that if I was going to create more illusions, I ought to give it a name. I thought of her again. Ille, help me out here,' I mumbled, just under a whisper.  
  
And sure enough, performed a cartwheel on the beam, as well as two back walkovers and a triple back handspring. And even stuck a perfect dismount!  
  
Of course, in this case, meant Ille, the illusion, not as in me.  
  
  
  
Ille. Gymnastics Team. Me.  
  
What the heck is going on?  
  
It had been almost a week and I had only needed to use Ille one more time; when I had to be at my cooking classes and my best friend's soccer tournament at the same time. I was beginning to figure out how to use Ille, and how also to make myself not invisible when I made her appear. On Tuesday, I was home alone and bored, so I thought of Ille and just spoke to her. Since she was almost like a puppet (being just an image) she didn't respond. But then again, I didn't want her to. I just needed someone to listen.  
  
And yet, I was still confused. While I could manipulate her movements and speech with my thoughts, a second question occurred in my mind. Why me? And was this a mutant ability?  
  
Today I walked home with Jen and Dave, as usual, who were still bubbling over the rumor about me doing a triple back handspring on the balance beam. I wondered- how many people did Kudo tell? I must have had thirty autograph books in my face that next day...  
  
Thirty two, Dave corrected.  
  
I asked, then realized I ahd said that last thought out loud. Oh yeah, I added, quietly.  
  
We turned the corner and my two friends went to the right, their houses that way. I, however, had another four and a half blocks of walking to the left.  
  
Hello, miss. Miss... Chankey, I believe? a tall, thin man with white hair asked me. I didn't think I saw him before, but with the light in my eyes it was hard to tell. I fished my perscription sunglasses out of my backpack and quickly switched them out to get a better view of my converser. White hair, blazing eyes- he looked like the guy from _Devil May Cry_.  
  
I nearly asked him.  
  
Where's Ille?  
  
ille? Are you looking for Illinois Street? It's that way, I asked, sweat beginning to show up on my face.  
  
No, miss. Ille. El-lay. You know who she is. You know her very well. And I'm here to offer you...a...  
  
proposition...


	3. Ille the Maniac

...I think that you will like it, too.  
  
A proposition?' I thought, Like a thousand dollars against a marker for my soul? Sorry, I'm not religious (or interested)'  
  
But the man continued as if he couldn't hear my thoughts (which I was grateful for, because he probably hasn't seen Guys and Dolls to understand my awful jokes.)  
  
Sara... Sara Chankey, you are, in no way am I trying to offend you with this statement, a mutant. And you were probably also aware of this fact, correct?  
  
I mumbled, unable to agree or deny.  
  
Shy? That's all right. We all have been. But I was wondering if you would like to join me. You see, I am a mutant, too.  
  
I'm not... alone?'  
  
But out loud I said, Prove it.  
  
He motioned to a stop sign, and with his hand outstretched, I watched in horror as he made it bend all the way over and then back to its original position upright without moving from his spot, several yards from the sign. I actually think it was a little straighter than before, but often times my eyes deceive me.  
  
And you, with your amazing talent! Why, Sara, you could have endless possibilities with the kind of mirages you could create! Join me, and we can do anything! No normal human could think of standing in our way!  
  
_Don't listen to him_,' a tiny, inner voice echoed, _please!_'  
  
I heard that voice may times before. This is what I meant by when i said my lie started when I was five. I've heard her voice before. Never knowing exactly what she was, I thought that maybe she was Ille. She wasn't exactly a voice of reason to me, however. Often with very reckless ideas, i was the one who had to shut her up. Silence her. And that's when my back started to burn... the searing pains I would get at night, fighting her in my torrential dreams just to keep my sanity. Oh, yes, she was a fighter, but she was smart. She always knew exactly what was going on; she always knew what to do.  
  
_Illusions are only half of what you can do. You can also emit a kind of force field around these things. Punch him. Please... He's hungry for your power.._.'


	4. A Second Gene Signature?

-at the Xavier School For Gifted Youngsters (a.k.a. a school for mutants)-  
  
Beep!!!  
Beep!!!  
BEEEEEEEEEEP!!!  
  
Charles Xavier quickly wheeled his way to Cerebro, passing Logan who muttered under his breath,ANOTHER one, Charles? This is getting annoying...  
  
Logan, you never know what happens. We have to take every chance, Professor Xavier answered back, flatly. Furthermore, why don't you come with me to see who it is?  
  
Ah, what the heck... fine.  
  
At Cerebro, Xavier strapped on the headgear as Logan leaned on one of the extra chairs arms crossed, with an angry scowl on his face.  
  
Lighten up, Logan!  
  
Cerebro logged on... and the screen flashed and sounded with a bio of a young girl.  
  
  
  
Name: Sara Chankey  
Location: Bay Head, New Jersey  
Age: 15  
Mutations: Ocular Albinism and other eye-related problems and Abilities: Can create visual and sound illusions and force fields around them to make them seem real. Also has unusual skin markings across her back, similar to scales. Thought of as eczema but current readouts unsure. Possibility of second gene signature present. Ocular Albinism is from birth. X-Gene present, but dormant until last week.   
  
_Visual output ready._  
  
Beep...  
Beep...  
  
Beep..........  
  
  
To Xavier's (and Logan's) shock, the visual was of the same girl but she was with...  
  
Logan cried, That-- that-- that damn rat...  
  
Xavier replied, You always have to be on your toes...  
  
  
  
but not have to be standing up to do it.  
  
He's got the girl already.  
  
Maybe, maybe not. Listen for a moment.  
  
  
... Sara... Sara Chankey, you are, in no way am I trying to offend you with this statement, a mutant. And you were probably also aware of this fact, correct?  
  
she mumbled, obviously perplexed.  
  
Shy? That's all right. We all have been. But I was wondering if you would like to join me. You see, I am a mutant, too.  
  
She sternly, almost forcefully snarled,Prove it.  
  
He motioned to a stop sign, and with his hand outstretched, Xavier, Logan, and Sara watched in horror as he made it bend all the way over and then back to its original position upright without moving from his spot, several yards from the sign.  
  
And you, with your amazing talent! Why, Sara, you could have endless possibilities with the kind of mirages you could create! Join me, and we can do anything! No normal human could think of standing in our way!  
  
Don't say yes, kid. Don't say yes! Logan nearly screamed, as he pounded on the side of Cerebro as if it would make any difference. In his sheer anger, his claws detracted, and neither of them noticed the small, dull glow emitted off on Sara's right shoulder.


	5. Leave Me Alone!

I stared, waiting for a dramatic pause, then conjured Ille up around me.  
  
Punch him, punch him, PUNCH HIM!!!' I thought, as Ille took a sharp uppercut to his chin.  
  
But unlike all the other times before (where she was just an illusion and unable to have a real physical form) fist really hit jaw. The white- haired man went flying back about twenty yards or so. Nothing I'd ever be able to do.  
  
You'll-- you'll regret your choice! Humans will never accept you! he yelled, sprawled on the pavement, unable to move.  
  
And yet, my hands never moved an inch...  
  
I cried, What the heck have I done? Dammit!  
  
I couldn't help but run all the way home.  
  
  
  
Why me? Why...  
  
I stared at the glass kitchen table, my eyes going in and out of focus as they usually do when my glasses are off and my eyes are dripping wet. But for that matter, it also happens when someone is speaking monotonically to me or... Or...  
  
Couldn't be that --- could it?...  
  
The other was when my quote-unquote started acting up. Those little red bumps across my back that I've had for like, forever? Since I was five?  
  
But, really, those were no little eczema marks. I pride myself in being a science whiz and I know that whenever nobody is looking eczema _doesn't_ magically turn from a random bunch of reddish dots dots to an exact replica of an X with a circle around it that shines bright silver. I'm not a Dexter but I do know real eczema when I see it (which this isn't). But there's more to this abnormal mark- it changes from silver to blue when something good is about to happen, and from silver to black when something bad is. And it burns whenever my Ille is arguing with me. I peered behind me and looked at my right shoulder back. Although my eyes were still extremely blurry, I could make out my wheel'. It was a harsh, almost demanding black... and then, right before my eyes it turned to silver, and then the most beautiful baby blue. And like that wheel, I had an odd feeling that a revelation was going to crash on my head any minute now...  
  
_Oh, Sara, it will..._' Ille murmered.  
  
I leaned back again, with my eyes still in and out of focus. The glass table almost looked as if dolphins were swimming in and out it, crashing down into and swimming in the frothy sea in perfect formation. It was probably just my imagination. Yet, I still felt sick inside. What about my mark? And Ille? What did it mean?  
  
And, as weird as that man was- the Darth Vader guy with the stop sign, I wasn't going to kill him. And then again, I wasn't even the one to punch him, was I?  
  
_You spoke the command. You were the driver behind the wheel. I am a guide, but what you do is of your own accord...._'  
  
WAS I?!?  
  
_YOU are the one to be blamed. You're the skitz. Really, Sara. You did. Maybe not with your own fist, maybe with your illusion's-- your illusion's punch that materialized for a single second to send Stop Sign flying... You are the one...'  
_  
But was it ME?  
  
_Yes. You are the guilty party Sara. You always have been._'  
  
I am not gilty! Something possesed me to do that, I couldn't stop myself!'  
  
_Oh, really? Then who forced you to act? Who else was there?_'  
  
I came to a sudden and terrible realization. What if... I wasn't hearing myself, an alter ego? What it this voice I've always heard is not my own?  
  
You. You... you can control me, you bitch!  
  
_I, control you? But how can i, if you're the skitz!_'  
  
I AM NOT A SKITZ! I screamed, at nothing in particular besides myself, which was now uncontrollably writhing like a dying snake on the floor.  
  
But it wasn't nothing, as my brother ran down the stairs and came upon my almost warped state.  
  
Sara!!! What happened to the TABLE!!!! my brother yelled at me in sheer disbelief, breaking the blazing silence which was searing acroos my body, my back. Loud, burning silence... silence.  
  
And silence can kill.  
  
Sara. Britney. Chankey. What the hell happened to you? AND WHAT-HAPPENED-TO-THE-TABLE-DAMMIT! Michael screamed, again and a little louder this time.  
  
I snapped out of my argument with myself' and replied, choking on my own words. Look I don't even know what you're talking about, oka--  
  
Yeah, you do know what i'm talking about. There are miniature dolphins swimming _through_ the table! Look, freak, if you can't tell me how far I am in Final Fantasy IX, I'm calling the cops on on mutant impersonation of my sister.  
  
Look, Michael, it's me. And, FFIX? I'm at the Ifia Tree on Disc 4. And in FFVII I'm at Aeris's house on the first disc. FFVIII? Try Esthar on the third CD, near the end of it. And FFX? You're in Besaid and I'm at the Zanarkand Dome, okay??? As for the table, I said, completely recomopsed and quite mad at my brother, then realizing I _did_ put an Ille in the table, I was... uh... trying out my new hologram-projector.  
  
Holo-poje--? Whoa, Sara, we're not in Star Trek, here. Sara, I want to know what's _really_ going on. You know you can trust me. Please tell me the truth. I...uh, I just don't want to see you get hurt, he said then added, By anyone other than me, of course. You did look like you were trying to strangle yourself or something. Are you a Yeerkin search of the nearest Yeerk pool? Cause I think there's one under the school, Visser Twenty- Seven.  
  
Laughing, I stared at him through fogged up glasses, then carefully, deliberately, cleaned them off to see what was really going on. He waited.  
  
Take your time, he said simply.  
  
I put my cleaned glasses on, and for the first time through all this, got a chance to really look at the table. A pod of illusion glass dolphins swam through the table, occasionally popping straight into the air to perform one of those mind-boggling feats dolphins do naturally. It was almost... beautiful. Perfect. I slumped into one of the wrought iron backed chairs and started to cry. It was too overwhelming. My mind, a sea of wreckage! A mess!  
  
And a storm started to show up in the illusion's waters, sending the dolphins on a wild rollercoaster ride in the fake ocean.  
  
Calm down, Sara, Michael sighed, If you continue to cry like that, whatever you're doing to the table will just get worse. Is there some way you can call that thing off?  
  
Through tears, I mumbled a and tried to clear my mind. Like a bad TV connection, the illusion fizzed, then disappeared, leaving plain, boring, kitchen table, 100% dolphinless. Relief.  
  
Michael, I'm ... I'm a mutant, okay? And I do think I'm possesed by something. i hear... voices. She won't leave me alone...  
  
Waited for shock. None came.  
  
Yeah. I knew **_that_** since you were born. Anything new I should know about? Oh, and voices, It's probbably those subliminal messages they stick in music. I've been altering those burned CDs you asked me to make. He laughed and gave me that annoying brotherly slap on the shoulder. This time I didn't seem to mind. Good old Mike. Always knew what to say in a tough situation.  
  
Can you not tell Mom? At least, not yet?  
  
Sure. But, he stopped with a stomach churning pause, I don't think she would be very happy when she found out her daughter was a little atom child.  
  
Who would?  
  
Sara, you're forgetting one thing. Mom and Dad founded FH just after you were born. Nearly fifteen years ago. he said uneasily.  
  
FH? Sara, you IDIOT!!!  
  


Friends   
  
of   
  
Humanity.  


  
  
Mutant haters, I think. Well, at least something along those lines.  
  
They want it to be a legalized law that all mutants are to be registered, numbered, and watched. They think mutants can't be trusted. Dammit!! Why me... of all the people in the world???  
  
And you think explaining an on your report card is hard to do...  
  
I can see it mow....  
  
And in recent news... Kevin and Lisa Chankey, founders of the Friends of Humanity, now have police outside their very own home! Seems their daughter Sara is a mutant herself! Now she can't even leave the house without an escort! How's that for irony, folks!  
  
Ohhh, dammit.


	6. Charles's Cranial Conundrum

--Poe Note--  
  
For those of you wondering how I made up these diseases Sara has, I have news for you. I didn't make up eczema or ocular albinism. They're real diseases and I have them. I couldn't help it. I needed her to have a weakness or else she would be way too powerful. While eczema and ocular albinism are not contagious and eczema not a real problem, ocular albinism is rare and a real pain in the arse to live with. Now you know.  
  
Danke. (PS- Better brush up on that German. Kurt's going to appear soon. Very, very, soon...)  
  
  
  


--At the X-Mansion one week later--  


  
So, we go to Point Pleasant, Charles? Logan questioned, almost jokingly.  
  
Yes, Logan. It is a bit far by car, but it also just isn't worth it by jet. Newark Airport's the only place that will give us clearance, and after we land it will still be another hour or so until we get there. It honestly is not worth it. We drive, Charles Xavier said sternly straight to Logan's face.  
  
And which one of the runts do you want to go with you? I can get them.  
  
Please ask Orroro if she can drive--  
  
And you want Porcupine to come with her?  
  
No. Not Evan. Tell Kurt to meet me in the garage in ten minutes.  
  
Elf???? Why him? He scared Rouge half to death when we tried to recruit her! He won't help!  
  
That's the point, Logan.  
  
I see,' said the blind man to the deaf woman, Logan replied sarcastically.  
  
Actually, that reasoning is quite right.  
  
Huh? Oh, yeah, I knew that. Logan mumbled something else under his breath which even he couldn't understand.  
  
Charles Xavier tried to hide the smirk on his face then replied, Kurt is not only different genetically, like Evan, Jean, or the other students here. He has a noticeable, physical difference that he is trying to hide. Same with Sara. I think she will actually welcome him as being more normal', so to speak, as she is. And so I ask you to also tell him his holographic inducer is unnecessary, giving Logan a sharp glare after the final remark.  
  
Fine. But if the Elf messes up I'm going to have him do double duty on his practice sessions. Since the girl's declined Magneto, we can't let her loose. Especially with her parents jobs, she can't be a lonely wanderer. She could do a lot of damage like your --ahem-- brother.  
  
Logan, I already know. This one recruit is going to be the toughest one yet.  
  
As Logan left to look for Orroro and Kurt, Charles Xavier turned his attention back to Cerebro.  
  
Two different gene sequeces? _Two_ sets of DNA, both with the mutant gene, on one single person? This is impossible, he mumbled to himself as he searched through files. Every person has twenty- six pairs of chromasomes. That's fifty- two individual chromasomes. But she has fifty- two PAIRS of them! And I can only get a reading on half of them. The other twenty- six pair are separated, and blocking my tracking system. The first do match Sara's reading from when her mother brought her here last, about eleven years ago, I believe... but she only had twenty six pair then!  
  
Professor Xavier took off his Cerebro helmet in confused disgust.  
  
Impossible. Sara's body is home to two separate people. But the last time I checked her, it was only one. Another mutant... must have found her to be a nice place to hide.'  
  
--In another part of the Institute ten minutes later--  
  
Yu're bhringing me? Kurt asked, quite confused.   
  
Yeah, yeah, Elf. Just. Get. In. The. Car, Logan said sternly.  
  
Uhhh... okay. Kurt shook his head and with an annoying BAMF he teleported from the spot he was at (hanging from the chandelier by his tail upside down reading _Call of the Wild _for his English 2 assignment, even though his copy was actually in German) to a more grounded position. Naturally, he reached for his hologram inducer, but with with a six foot Wolverine, claws extended and all, blocking Kurt's enormous chiffarobe off, he was confused.  
  
Your prof. says no, Elf. Ya don't need it. Kid we're seein is half blind. Like I said, get your ass in the CAR!!! Pronto!  
  
Aach! Yesch sir!  
  
Whith another BAMF Kurt was off in a cloud of smoke. Fanning the smell away from his face, Logan mumbled a damn kids' to himself, then ran down to the lower garage where Storm and Xavier were waiting.


	7. Ring You

--In the Institute's Garage--  
  
Xavier waited patiently in the lower garage of his mansion, knowing that nobody would be in there for another ten minutes. It had been two days since Sara had been spotted- it was on Thursday, April 29, to be exact, when Cerebro did. Xavier craned his neck around to make sure that no one else was there, then took out his cell phone, scrolling through the stored numbers.  
  
Faron, Jason... Fidelity Bank... Aha. Friends of Humanity, he mumbled to himself.  
  
He pressed send' and the call went through.  
  
Friends of Humanity, the receptionist said. How may I help you?  
  
I would like to speak to Lisa Chankey, please. Tell her that Charles-  
  
-Xavier is on the line? she said, cutting him off. For a mere moment he thought that the girl on the other end was a mutant until, We have Caller ID, sir. Prevents frauds. Sure. Hold on please.  
  
Charles Xavier waited for two minutes, then the Lisa came on.  
  
Is this what I think it is? she asked.  
  
Your daughter has been detected.  
  
I thought so. She's really been avoiding me lately. Are you coming over to speak with her?  
  
I am coming with two of my professors, and one student.  
  
It's going to take that much coaxing, Charles? She's always wanted to leave this ghost town.  
  
Magneto already found her when Cerebro detected her mutant power. She's afraid to speak to even you about it. She has the mistaken- but justifiable- wrong idea about your organization. I think that she think you all _hate_ mutants. Most of the students here do. A lot of people are misinformed.  
  
Charles I just want her protected from Magneto. That's all. Especally after that night when we found him beaten up on the sidewalk. There may be wose mutants out there than him.  
  
Lisa, it was that night that we detected your daughter. Xavier paused for a moment, deciding wether or not to tell Mrs. Chankey all that he had seen from Cerebro that night. He decided not to make her faint at work and continued. Magneto actually spoke with Sara; she declined but has been shaken up since.  
  
Then I want her in Bayville, not Bay Head- it isn't safe for her here, alone.Recruit her for me. Please. I will never force her to do anything.  
  
I will do my best.  
  
Stay for dinner, then. It is a three hour drive over here.  
  
Very well. I have to go. My student is comming down the stairs.  
  
See you tonight, then.  
  
Goodbye, Lisa.


	8. Mr Clampe

--Back in Bay Head, Southern New Jersey (At the Johnson Brothers Marina Pool)--  
  
Waddya want? my brother asked. It has been two days since I told him, and now that it is a weekend, he has work. At least it was poolside, at the snack bar. And I got all the ice cream I wanted. On Mike. _Sweet_.  
  
Nothing now. Just a question.  
  
he said, as he put more pretzels in the maker-thinghie (as if there is a name for that?).  
  
Do you know who that guy was?  
  
Who, the one you, er, I mean, we found knocked out? he asked, implying something slightly different. I never actually told him about Stop Sign that afternoon, but when my parents came home from work, he was still lying on the pavement, considering nobody ever comes down our street. Later that night, I explained it to my brother, but it took a little convincing before he would believe me. A demonstration, to be exact. My mom still doesn't know what kind of quick windstorm' could have knocked one tree over in our backyard.  
  
I said, snapping out of my pensive moment. Ever seen the guy before?  
  
My brother whirled around, checked to see if nobody wanted anything, then whispered close in my ear, Yes, Sara. I have seen him before. He's...  
  
But my brother was cut off by the sound of the Flintstones theme song.  
  
Eh-he. Sorry, Michael, I said, then ran off to go receive the call.  
  
Hey, Mom, I said, looking at my cell's caller ID.  
  
Hi, honey. I know we usually go out to eat on Saturdays, but we are having some guests over and I'd prefer to stay at home. Can you cook for eight? Make anything you want.  
  
I paused. I usually cooked Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and sometimes on Fridays, pizza day was on Tuesdays, but eating at home on Saturdays was practically a sin in my family. A schedule change like that meant something was up. Even if we had guests on a Saturday, we still ate out.  
  
I don't think we have anything in the freezer except burgers and ribs- and maybe a package of swordfish in the fridge. Do you mind if I grill?  
  
That will be great. I think we have some corn, too. If you need anything else, just go to Curtis Market, honey. Michael carries some money on him and I'll pay him back. And, if you can, clean the porch table- the dining room only seats six. They should be at our house around seven. Oh, and you don't need to change your clothes.  
  
Okay, bye.  
  
Click. Must be somebody really important. The only one that I could think of was Mr. Clampe, a fat man with a fat wallet. He often gave donations- if he was in a good mood. He was a traditional American- burger- in- one- hand- and- corn- on- the- cob- in- the- other- hand kind of guy. He was bias towards the typical American family- happy parents with two loving children who were willing to help out around the house and always did well in school and took care of a pet responsibly. Which is why when he came walking in at seven I was in an ironed dress setting the table, my brother was wearing starched khakis finishing his homework in the kitchen. Probably also why my mom finally let us get two adorable guinea pigs (my dad's allergic to dogs or else we definitely would have had to have one).  
  
Whic is why it surprised me that 1. We were eating outside. Even after being cleaned, the outside table was still a tiny bit lopsided, not perfect enough for Mr. Clampe. 2. We needed to eat outside. With Mr. Clampe, it would only have been five people. And 3. Mom didn't ask me to change.  
  
I wasn't going to ask, either. I went by the strict policy of NOMB- none of my beeswax.  
  
I yelled, then ran to the snack counter. We have a problem.  
  
  
  
Mom says we're having company, I don't know who- but something is telling me Mr. Clampe is involved, though some evidence points away from it. But Mom does want me to grill. On a Saturday.  
  
he repeated, somewhat bored. He knew what that meant.  
  
Could you go to Curtis? I goota get my rear home to cook.  
  
Sara, I got work! Seriously-  
  
a loud voice boomed behind us- Michael's boss, Chris Kepler, was standing there.Though we both feared the worst, he continued with a, You're off the hook for the rest of the day. Your mom just called.  
  
Michael was stunned. It had to be Mr. Clampe. Nothing else we could think of would make my mom call my brother's boss. Kay, Sara. I'll see you in an hour. I'll get some ice cream while I'm out, too. He slipped out the back door of the snack bar and walked to my mother's car that he borrowed.  
  
Need a ride home, Sara?  
  
  
  
Great. This is going to be the longest Saturday night in my lifetime.


	9. The Dinner Party

Poe Note- For those of you that are confused, I write out character accents. Just read out loud what they are saying, and if enough of you really can't understand them, I'll put a little translation guide at the end of the chapter. Kapish? On with the story!  
  
Everything was on plates and platters in the kitchen at 6:45 PM. My hair was pulled back and with a safari print apron around my front, I had made everything- grilled burgers,grilled ribs, grilled swordfish (I was right about it being in the fridge), grilled corn, my world- famous steamed garlic green beans, baked beans, baked potatoes, Mexican arroz con habichuelas negras (a.k.a. rice with black beans), and a fruit platter with vanilla ice cream. My brother also picked up a chocolate cheesecake while he was out, in addition to pickles, mustard, relish, the stuff I needed for the rice, potatoes, and beans, and alfalfa for Bob and Rikku, our adorable guinea pigs.  
  
And if anyone still thinks that someone with ocular albinism can't cook, take that up with the New Jersey Commission for the Blind and Visually Impaired.  
  
All that was left was the back porch table. My brother was vacuuming upstairs, so with fifteen minutes to spare (Mr. Clampe was always prompt) I ran back outside with a bucket of ammonia and a sponge, this time to the table instead of the grill.  
  
To my horror, I remembered that I forgot to clean the table before the season ended last fall. it would take me at least a half of an hour before it would be clean enough to sit at- with another fifteen minutes to dry after that.  
  
As i started sloshing down the table with the ammonia, my back to the door with wet splotches and dirt from the table already on me, i pulled out my cell phone and dialed Mom for a contingency plan. Unfortunately I was too late. At 6:55, my mom and dad walked onto the porch, I could tell by their steps, as well as some additional shuffling. I did not turn around in my embarrassment of not being done, I simply continued to clean, mumbling a Hello, please wait a few minutes.  
  
But the response definitely did not sound like a Mr. Clampe. Rather, it sounded like a German foreign exchange student.  
  
Vy are ve here? To meet a Cindrella?  
  
I spun around. And if I wasn't who I was, I certainly would have screamed.  
  
But of course, being me, I replied with a, Hey, stop gaping at me. You look like you've seen your math teacher running stark naked through the school. I'll be done cleaning in five minutes, then we can eat. Till then, your stomach will have to be tortured.  
  
The kid, or 5' something fuzzy blue... um, _something_ (that is, if I wasn't being deceived by my own eyes) sat on one of the two already cleaned chairs. My dad, finally getting the nerve to speak said, Sara, this is...  
  
His name is Kurt, Kevin. I looked at the door to see three more people that I'd never seen before in my life. The one speaking was a bald and older man in a wheelchair, while the second was a tall black woman with almost shining black hair. The third reminded me somewhat of my own father- kind of gruff, not totally clean shaven, with the look- a kind of indescribable sparkle in one's eyes that hides many secrets behind it.  
  
Kevin and Lisa, if you don't mind? Bald Guy asked, then wheeled over to me. Hello, Sara. My name is Charles Xavier.  
  
Ah'm Kurt, said the kid in the chair.  
  
Please, call me Orroro, said the tall woman.  
  
Call me whatever ya want. Known back home as Mr. Logan- but ah don't got a last name to be Mista' to, said the guy with the look.  
  
Do you need any help finishing up? asked my mom, cutting in on our introductions, obviously a little nervous. Now that I think about it, it seemed that everyone kind of acted that way. Even Kurt's tail was twitching nervously (I watch too much Animal Planet).  
  
If any of you don't mind getting wet, I would like some help cleaning up this table.  
  
Ten minutes later, the table and five more chairs were cleaned and dried, and everyone was eating. Two things happened within those ten minutes that actually surprised me.  
  
First, my brother came down and not only didn't scream (which I would have been surprised only if he did), but was carrying a big box wrapped up as if it was someone's birthday.  
  
Second, the table dried in less than a minute due to a very odd and sudden warm front. i began to understand what was going on. My mom had indeed invited work friends. Just that they were mutants.  
  
I'll never understand anything in life, but at least I learned some very interesting things about Germany, which is where Kurt was really from.  
  
Well, Kurt, I'm terribly sorry I forgot sauerkraut. Forgive me? I asked him between bites of swordfish.  
  
I'm sure the Elf got enough of it at home, kid, Mr. logan said from across the table. Everyone laughed. And Sara, coudya pass me the ribs?  
  
I said.  
  
I, a, think ya can recognize that we ain't exactly normal, he said, then I realized it was actually directed at me. I held out the platter of ribs towards him and he said a very weird follow up.   
  
Instead of picking out a rib with a fork or his hands, he curled his right hand into a fist and three large claw- reminiscent blades came right out of his knuckles, and directly into a rib. He knocked it onto his plate, then cleaned his off with a napkin. It almost made me laugh.  
  
I think ya saw Storm's work before, that's Orroro's nickname by the way, Logan said, noticeably relieved that I was not flinching at the sight of his metallic appendages. Kurt can teleport, and Xavier'sa tele- something or other.  
  
I am a telepath, Sara Mr. Xavier said, correcting Logan's statement. He turned his wheelchair towards me and asked the question I was dreadfully afraid to hear. And what are you?  
  
I closed my eyes, and, almost mechanically, took off my glasses and started cleaning them. I'd never be able to explain this. I think it would be easier to show you, but, I'd like something explained first. What exactly do you do, I questioned, turning to my parents, at Friends of Humanity?  
  
Friends of Humanity is meant for protecting both humans and mutants, my dad answered. Most members have a close relative who is a mutant, or is suspected to be one. We want mutants to be integrated into society, being watched only at initial stage to prove to everyone that they mean no harm. After all, why would we want to lock up our own daughter? my dad asked, smiling a little. As for Mr. Clampe, our biggest donator, well, he finds it very impressive that a mutant (referring to me, I assumed) would be willing to try so hard to be a model citizen. He learned that you are a mutant, but only by accident. We keep it anonymous who is mutant and who is not, to prevent mutant haters and embarrassment. Charles Xavier is the only one that we have ever told. He runs a school in New York for mutants.  
  
As my dad let it sink in, I realized that they had known all along- and never told me! Why? I would have asked, too, if it wasn't for NOMB. (I didn't find out until many years later that my parents knew that I'd blab it off to everyone if I had found out sooner. They're right.)  
  
So you want me to go to this school?  
  
Well, you do have to actually be a mutant to go, my dad replied, implying that I would have to show him.  
  
Do you like chocobos?  
  
(or in Kurt's case) just about everyone yelled, with the exception of my brother.  
  
I repeated. I put my glasses back on, then thought for a moment of the trademark Final Fantasy animal.  
  
Basically take a baby ckick, magnify it to 6' and put a saddle on its back. That's a chocobo. I created one right next to me, force field and all, then had it bend down and let me get on its back. In all reality, I was basically floating in midair. Everyone was stunned, but I was not going to stop there. They wanted to see mutant power, I would give power, attempting something I had never done before- two Illes at the same time. I put a second one around myself, and my family and our guests were no longer looking at Sara.  
  
They saw a chocobo being ridden by Quistis Trepe.  
  
--Poe Note--  
Quistis Trepe is a character from Final Fantasy 8, a.k.a. FFVIII. She is irrelevent to the story, so you really don't need to know anything about her. This will not be a X-Men Final Fantasy crossover.


	10. The Decision

Are my eyes deceiving me? Mr. Xavier asked in shock.  
  
My mother was gaping, too, but not for the same reason. Quistis's choice for clothing is slightly on the scant side. Not even nearly Britney Spears scant, but enough to piss my mother off.  
  
I'm sure Kurt was gaping at me for the same reason my mother was.  
  
I yelled from my position on top of the chocobo, Yes, your eyes are deceiving you. I started laughing. My power is illusions. Images.  
  
Then how did you knock out Magneto?  
  
If my mother's eyes were wide before, they were Pikachu sized now. You... knocked... out .... Mag-neto?!?!?  
  
You mean the guy who can bend stop signs over? Well, that was kind of an accident. And another illusion. Just that I can make my illusions have a physical feel. I am actually sitting on this thing. I answered, trying to remain calm.  
  
I'd heard of Magneto on the news before, he was some mutant terrorist, or something like that. But I'd taken care of the poor guy so easily...?  
  
I kicked the chocobo and had it walk over to Mr. Xavier. Having it bend down, he actually reached out and touched my illusion.  
  
It feels like a giant chicken, Mr. Xavier said, slightly baffled. It even feels warm.  
  
I started to feel drowsy, probably from trying to keep up my illusions, so I got off my chocobo Ille, put both Illes away, and sat back down at my seat.  
  
Utter silence filled the table until my dad decided to speak. Sara, well that's some ability. I'm proud of you, but please, don't go around knocking over people. Or trees. he added, pointing to the remains of the tree I'd knocked over.  
  
  
  
Well, now the big question is, Orroro questioned, Would you like to come to the Xavier Institute?  
  
The school's _named_ after you? I asked in shock. Wouldn't, like, one of your high donators name it after themselves?  
  
There are no donators, Sara. I own the school completely on my own, Mr. Xavier replied. I inherited a massive fortune from my father. Now you're eluding the question!  
  
Course. Always do. I... ah... would I be able to have visitors? Could my friends come occasionally, or is this place supposed to be completely secret?  
  
If they are willing to accept the fact that every person living at the school is a mutant and will not go around telling everyone, there is no problem.  
  
My friend Amanda alvays comes over, she's no mutant at all Kurt said, obviously trying to help Mr. Xavier persuade me.  
  
the professor continued, sometimes even the closest of friends has the urge to tell everyone. If you have met someone new at school, the first ten times they come to visit must be planned in advance. This way, we don't end up with... accidents and misunderstandings...  
between people. There are a few other minor rules, but nothing truly hinders the student's social life unless they are in the X-Men, and even then, only minimally.  
  
That is...?  
  
A small group of students who are on guard duty in case of something happening in Bayville. Fires, floods, other mutants who may try to sabotage the institute... although nobody has ever managed to completely get inside yet, thanks to the students, nor has anyone ever gotten seriously hurt. They do any recruiting missions as well.  
  
I was stunned. The X- Men sounded cool- like a group of super heroes. But I'd never be able to make it. Probably run into a tree during tryouts, or something like that.  
  
_You are only kidding yourself._'  
  
Ille?  
  
_He, they, all the people seated at this table can be trusted, Sara. Go. Maybe there the truth will unravel from the fate's web of time._'  
  
Staring at the most unlikely crowd around me, in the most unlikely situation on Earth, I would walk blindly forward. Was this this _truth_?  
  
Sometimes a lie can reveal the truth- I've heard that once. But I don't lie. So then what? I did the only thing I could think of doing now.  
  
I will join you.  
  
My brother smiled. Then this is for everyone at the Institute. It's a little I'm- glad- you're- going- away, I mean, a good- bye, present. He handed the box to me and Kurt. Immediately we were like two kids in a candy store, ripping apart (or attempting to) the paper.   
  
It was a PS2.  
  
Oh, this is so going in MY room, I shrieked.  
  
You do that and it will be gone the next morning, Kurt shot back, in a humorous way.  
  
This has to have been the shortest night of my life.


	11. Final Moments of an Old Life

----Poe Note----  
Hehe... 35 reviews. That's more than I've had for al my other stories combined (they've been deleted, they stunk). I just want to let you all know that the at least one chapter a week thing still stands- except from halfway through July until the end of August. (Art sleep away camp.) :-) Just a forewarning, for those who actually wait for my next chapter.   
On with the story!  
  
The next few weeks went by faster than I had ever planned. Since Mr. Xavier's car had no extra room, and my mom was afraid to ship something that could easily be damaged, I was going to bring the PS2 with me. And since it was already the middle of May, I was not going to the Institute until I had finished the school year, ticking off many of the students when they found out they would have to wait a month until I would come (with the PS2).  
  
I also started making weekly calls to the school, talking with several of the students. Kurt, Kitty, Jubilee, and I would often stay on several hours every Thursday night, seriously tying up one of the school's three phone lines. And, now, Thursday, June 12, at eight PM, that is exactly what I was doing.  
  
So, like, six more days to go! Kitty said, a little too enthusiastically.  
  
Yeah, next time we talk, it'll be in person, Jubilee added in. But why did you have to send Storm that spicy pasta sauce recipe? My tongue was on fire for at least three days after!  
  
Sheish, she e- mailed me asking for recipes. But maybe she made my All' Arrabbiata Furious Man sauce a little _too_ furious, I replied.  
  
You should have put a varning label on your recipes, then- ve don't all have tongues of steel! And Scott's mouth vas burning so badly, I svear, his face turned bluer than mine! Vhat the heck is in there, anyvays? Kurt asked, trying to stifle laughter- the four of us always ended up having stupid conversations like this.  
  
Well, there's olive oil, garlic, plum tomatoes, salt, oregano, basil, Pecorino Romano cheese... and dried, crushed hot pepper.  
  
No wonder, Jubilee said. Are you Italian? The recipe definitely sounds it.  
  
Not even close, Ju. I'm a German Jew.  
  
Vhere in Germany? Kurt asked, considerably interested.  
  
Dunno. But, I, ah, have to go. I had to make this call from Jen's house on my cell. Seems like my family was so desperate to push me out of the house for some reason... and suddenly they called Jen telling her and me to come home  
  
My bet's, like, on a surprise party, Kitty said. Well, we'll see you on Wednesday! Can't wait- and it seems as if some people at the school --cough cough-- JamieandLogan --cough cough-- already bought games for the system.  
  
I laughed privately. See you next week, then! Later! I hung up, and Jen Maklo and I walked back to my own house, a couple blocks away.  
  
Were those some people from the boarding school you're going to? Jen inquired as we walked in the light of the setting sun.  
  
On the phone? Yeah. Kitty Pride, Jubilee I- can't- remember- her- last- name, and Kurt Wagner, I replied, pronouncing Kurt's last name as he does, like Vognur.  
  
Sounds German.  
  
Is. Here, I have a photo. Both of us stopped as I pulled out a photo of some of the Institute's residents. That's Scott Summers from Alaska, I said, pointing out the people in the photo. Kurt's the one in the cargo shorts to the left. N' Rouge's on the right. Professor Xavier is the one in the middle.  
  
Why is she completely covered up? Jen inquired, pointing to Rouge. Jen was, and is, my closest friend, but she was often a little too blunt. The guys are wearing shorts! And why is Scott wearing sunglasses **inside** the house? And your future headmaster in a wheelchair? Sara, is there something you want to tell me about this school you're going to? Is it for the handicapped?  
  
_Ooh, bad photo to show your bud,_' I thought. _Well, i guess I ought to tell her. Wouldn't want to lie to a friend._'  
  
And right then and there, I told her the truth.  
  
By Xavier's School for the Gifted, it is referring to genetically gifted, Jen.  
  
But why? You do just fine in school! You don't need care like these kids would! Don't kid yourself- you're a great cook and awesome in foreign language. You make better sushi than the Japanese restaurant in town! And you actually can describe the process in what, ten different languages! So what if you're not good at sports- you don't need to be at a private school like this over a stupid eye problem!  
  
When I meant genetically gifted I didn't mean disabled, Jen, I meant mutant. Kurt's a teleporter, Scott can shoot laser beams from his eyes when he isn't wearing those funky sunglasses to block them, the professor is a telepath, and Rouge can suck the life out of someone when in skin- to- skin contact with them- that's why she's all covered up. I'm... an illusionist.  
  
No... no way! Jen nearly screamed.  
  
Sssh, not so loud. I'll show you what I mean. Before her eyes I made a simple Ille- just an image of myself.  
  
There's a surprise party for you back at the house, c'mon, we're late already, Jen quickly added, attempting to change the subject.  
  
I'll go under one condition- you tell no one.  
  
  
  
And Jen and I ran the final block back to my house. Before I opened the door, Jen added one more thing.  
  
I'm glad you told me. Cause if it was a school for the handicapped, I wouldn't have let you go.  
  
I replied, Jen, if it was, I wouldn't have gone. I don't need something like that.  
  
We opened the door to a dark foyer. Instinctively, I walked to the largest room in the house, the den, as it was where my family always held parties. I opened the door, flicked on the light, and...  
  
  
  
---Public Service Announcement to the Extremely Curious--  
For those of you who have attempted to look up the Chankey family in Bay Head, New Jersey I warn you, this is not a Mary- Sue story. (Mary- Sues are when the writer directly sticks him or herself into an already created story, such as the X- Men.) My name is NOT Sara Britney Chankey, I do NOT live in Bay Head (though it is a real place, one exit off of Point Pleasant, for those of you who were wondering why Logan mentioned that several chapters back), and if there really is a Chankey family in Bay Head, don't antagonize them. Thank you.  
  
- Raven :-)


	12. The Amazing Virtual Reality Machine

--Poe Note--  
Rather, this is a note to Pruningshears- what the heck do you mean by ???? And, yeah, Shlomet's my Hebrew name- Hebrew for peaceful' (yeah, that **REALLY** describes me). Most call me Shloie. Weirdest nickname ever, huh?  
  
Oh, and _To Tell One Lie_ takes place somewhere in the middle of the second season, before the mutant war'- that's why Spyke, Jubilee, and Wolfsbane are still at the Institute, but BoomBoom and Avalanche are not (also why Scarlet Witch and Gambit etc. are nowhere to be found, they're in the third season).  
  
Whatever, on with the story.  
  
Wednesday, June 18 at 3:45:27 PM EXACTLY  
  
Our silver Mountaineer pulled up to Xavier's school. Wait, let me rephrase that- his MANSION! The place was so enormous it was GI-normous. Immense, with wings and turrets and the whole bit gave it a castle appearance. Immediately after my dad stopped the car at the front door three people, none of which I recognized, came out to greet my family and me. Suddenly, one extremely large blue furball came lumbering over to our car, and until he came within three feet of me I thought he was Kurt on steroids.  
  
Professor McCoy, he said, extending a hand and a smile. I work in the infirmary. Do you need some help with your suitcases?  
  
Err, um, yeah, I mumbled, a little embarrassed. Exactly how many people live here?  
  
Eighteen, plus you makes nineteen. Unless, of course, Jamie has a say abut it, Mr. McCoy said as he lifted a good half of what was in the trunk out. He then yelled over his shoulder, Jamie? Can you come and help too? Stop gawking!  
  
One of the kids on the front steps raced down and tripped as he ran to the car, splitting himself into several equally sized Jamies. Each one grabbed something from the car, and immediately went inside the school. Now it was my turn to gawk. In less than two minutes, everything was inside the school.  
  
I picked my handbag out from under my seat and went inside, only to hear the sound of a loud BAMF above my head. Looking up, I saw the guy I was waiting for hanging from the chandelier.  
  
Nightcrawler! Heey, Kurt! I'm here! I yelled up.  
  
Kurt jumped down just in time; my family and the professor entered the foyer the immediate moment after.  
  
Everything's brought up for you, Sara, the Professor said, wheeling over to where we were standing. Now, before your family leaves, there is a ceremony we always do when a new mutant arrives. I need to make sure everything is ready, but in the meantime, Kurt, since you're here, could you show Sara her room? She's sharing with Miss Lee. And Lisa? Kevin? Michael? Could you follow me please?  
  
Miss _Lee_? Oh, Jubilation Lee! Awesome! A room with Jubilee would be anything but boring. When the Professor turned his back to go into another room, Kurt gave me a wink.  
  
I suggested that one- it vas either Jubilation or Jean vho you'd room vith, kurt whispered, as my family walked over to Mr. Xavier and left the foyer with him.  
  
Where is everyone, by the way? Even Mr. McCoy seems to have disappeared.  
  
All in their uniforms, dovnstairs, or changing into them, I presume. With my entirely quizzical look Kurt decided to explain further. Training uniforms! So we don't ruin our good clothes. You're going to be getting yours and picking a code name tonight. Any ideas?  
  
I thought for a moment Nickname, nickname... That's IT!  
  
Kurt, where the heck is my room?  
  
He barreled down the hall at top speed and I could only sprint to catch up.  
  
Here. Just knock first, just in case she is still in there.  
  
I knocked on the door to no answer and pushed it open. Everything was in the room already, and I quickly ran over the duffel bag I brought and ran through it. Kurt leaned at the doorway, tail twitching, watching me.  
  
Pick something that gives _some_ kind uff meaning. Oh, and you have five minutes. I have to change.  
  
Though I heard him the entire time, I was in no mood to concentrate- I was looking for something. At the bottom of the bag, tied up in a crumpled friendship knot, I found it, a huge good bye note form all of my friends. Scrawled on the outside in Jen's horrifyingly illegible handwriting were the words  
  
SARA, DON'T YOU DARE OPEN THIS UNTIL YOU GET THERE OR WE'LL COME OVER THERE AND PERSONALLY GET RID OF YOU  
  
Well, I was here now, wasn't I? I pulled it open, carefully, so not as to rip it on the deeply indented seams created from the elaborate (or at least to me) folding. I hadn't opened it before, but something from Jen, Catie, Steve, Dave, Anna, and Alexis was bound to give me some sort of clue as to a name that bore meaning.  
  
The folded paper actually was seven folded papers containing our inside jokes- every one since fifth grade. My friends had actually kept track of them- dates and all. I scanned down the list- something had to be there.  
  
Aaack! Attack of the black dots! _No, too long of a story to explain._  
  
Now presenting Clorox 2 _I do not wish to be named after a Pokémon related incident, or thought to be named after a cleaning detergent, thankyouverymuch._  
  
Meowth that's RI-IGHT! _Oh, heck NO._  
  
The Incredible Walking Dictionary! _Do I really wish to be the laughingstock of the institute?_  
  
I continued to look down the list, with one reason or another for declining a phrase or word. The magical kitchen was just wrong, even if cooking was my specialty, the guy behind the counter is the killer had to do with Scream 3 and a cute guy at the concession stand, was already a trademarked soft drink, and sugar packets would probably scare my parents (especially since they knew exactly what had happened at Starbucks that evening).  
  
Then, on the fifth page and the thirteenth quote down I finally found something useful. Though it had to do with a comic strip from seventh grade, it didn't really matter. I'd found exactly what I was looking for. A name. I continued to read down the list just for fun, waiting for Kurt. I heard a knock on the door halfway through reading the final page of the letter' and opened it to see him in one of the weirdest things I'd ever seen.  
  
What are you, a circus performer?  
  
Vell, I used to be- that's vere Nightcrawler comes from. My name in the Munich circus.  
  
You never told me that.  
  
I never told _any_ one that- not even Amanda.  
  
Wow. He actually trusts me with this?  
  
Sara, come on- everyone else is in the dining room vaiting, Kurt said, trying to get back to business. Ve're already late. I'll port us there.  
  
Without time to object, I smelled sulfur and saw the Xavier living room for the first time.  
  
The Professor wheeled up to me and motioned for me to sit at the head of the enormous dining room table. Everyone else was seated around it, all in their various uniforms. Some were Spandex, but the majority, like Nightcrawler's, were made of a similar, but thicker, less form fitting material. Miss Orroro's was downright loose altogether, with a flowing skirt and cloak rather than the tighter outfits of everyone else. Looking down at my size 16 jeans, I wished my uniform would look more like hers.  
  
A large box was passed down the table but stayed in the hands of the girl next to me, who had brown hair and pigtails.  
  
We all wish to give you this box, but it is something we must barter for, she said in a Scottish accent. If you wish to have this box, we ask only for you name in return.  
  
Going around the table, all eighteen other mutants made a simple introduction, each stating their name and code name, finally getting around to the girl next to me.  
  
I'm fourteen year old Rahne Sinclair from Scotland- Wolfsbane will be fine. Rahne turned to me, expectantly. It was my turn.  
  
Well, I'm fifteen and from New Jersey. According to my friends... I stopped, and pulled the creased papers out of my pocket, fidgeting around for the fifth page, thirteenth line. I stood up, I've been called many times by Catie Zimmeruski, and I quote, I paused for a moment, conjuring around me an Ille that looked and sounded exactly like my friend, Sara, the amazing virtual reality machine!' I said smiling, to the table's astonishment. I dropped the illusion and quickly added, But V/R is fine.  
  
Sitting down, I smiled, as Rahne passed the box to me.


	13. INTERLUDE

---Another Public Service Announcement to the Extremely Curious--  
This is an interlude. It is only an interlude. If this were a real chapter there would be an actual plot to it.  
  
--Poe Note--  
As the last chapter was the last one ever to take place in Bay Head, I decided it was about time to have an interlude, explaining some stuff that's happened in the past fifteen chapters. Just a couple fun facts, etc.  
  
-This story does have a plot and IS going somewhere. Hang on and you'll see the plot, and, yes, Kurt and the PS2 are definitely involved. I just write slow. What others put in three chapters, I put in ten.  
  
-_One_ of my first names (I have two) is Shlomet. Okay? Now you know.  
  
-Logan is a mountain in Alaska, in the area where Logan is supposed to be from. There are also six cities named Logan in the United Stated, and two zip code areas.  
  
-A chiffarobe is a large chest of drawers (see ch. 10).  
  
-Please read Kalaki's work. It's some pretty funny stuff.  
  
-It took Alan Cunning four hours to get on the Nightcrawler makeup for X- Men 2. In the scene where Storm and Jean are dressing his arm wound and Nightcrawler's shirt is off (sorry people, just his shirt), it took ten hours. Oh, and Cunning's dog ate one of the fake toenails he had to wear.  
  
-Fish sleep with both eyes open-they don't have eyelids. Dolphins sleep with half their brain awake and one eye open, so they can go up for air. What does that have to do with X- Men? I, like, dunno.  
  
-Lady Deathstrike is not a mutant in the original X- Men comics, she just has long nails.  
  
-X- Men is pronounced Equis- Men in Spanish (Thanks, Stephanie R.!).  
  
-Lisa (Sara Chankey's mom) was the name of the first Apple computer ever created. My Apple has voice recognition, and will only answer to that name.  
  
-It costs about $15 to see a movie in Japan.  
  
-Evan (Spyke) is the only mutant created for the X- Men Evolution TV series. Everyone else (including the Brotherhood mutants) has been in some other X- Men thing prior.  
  
-Kitty Pride is Jewish and fifteen and a freshman---like me??? Ack! You've, like, all discovered my secret! Aaah! (just kidding...?)  
  
I gotta go. It's my night to cook.  
  
Later!  
  
:-) Raven


	14. 1: Truth Potion

---_Two_ Poe Notes---  
Kurt's written accent doesn't apply when he is actually speaking German (you know, how I've been changing the w's to v's and a's to o's where it applies, etc.). That's because I wished to spell everything correctly. Get used to it. (That means he is going to speak a lot of German- but everything will be directly translated in parenthesis or explained in the story.)  
  
The last seventeen chapters were the to this story. This is where the plot actually begins, now that you know who Sara is and what her predicaments are. It'll start to get into more action now. Much more.  
  
On with the story!  
  
_To Tell One Lie_  
by Poe's Raven  
  
Mamma! Jean hat mich herauf alle Nacht mit ihrem Schreien gehalten! Sie hat diese jede Nacht für zwei Wochen getan! Ich habe absolut keine Idee was zu tun. Ich werde schlafen, wenn Sie kommen zu besuchen, wenn sie nicht stoppt.  
  
I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Kurt's conversation with his mother, but I wanted to find out what was wrong. It's already been a week at the Institute, and I'd noticed that he was falling asleep at the breakfast table; this morning he had taken his food and everything, and hen fell asleep right into his plate!  
  
I didn't realize that Jean's room was right next to his until I decided to do the eavesdropping, as I had to make an Ille of the wall around me when she went storming out of her room- even though it was 3:26 AM on a Tuesday. Being able to make myself invisible through Ille was becoming very useful, especially since I usually slept only about five hours a night- and getting up at 2 AM and reading in bed to the sounds of a snoring Jubilee was not my idea of fun. Sure, she was an awesome friend, but who wants to have an accompaniment when they're trying to get into _Prisoner of Azkaban_?  
  
I would have asked if I could switch rooms, too, if it wasn't for what I'd just heard from Kurt. He was whining to his mother that Jean was keeping _him_ up all night- but with... crying? Jean Grey, a.k.a. Miss Perfection, _crying_? Well, she did look like something had streamed down her cheeks as she passed...  
  
I heard the click of the receiver and then the a sound I became familiar to- the BAMF of his teleporting. I heard the familiar noise again seconds later, farther away... in the kitchen.  
  
I laughed privately. Kurt's life existence depended on food. We all know that whenever he's ticked off about something he heads for the kitchen- but the last few days he's been asking around why he's been finding fresh peanut butter, Nutella, and banana sandwiches (his favorite) in the fridge for him. I wonder who's been doing that? Especially since I happen to take one to lunch with me out to the institute's pool every day.  
  
I am going down there, I mumbled to myself, as I ran back to my room to pick up a little secret weapon that extracts answers from everyone. For the three years previous when I baby-sat, even for the older kids, IT WORKED MIRACLES. Kurt wouldn't stand a chance...  
  
Heh, heh, heh.  
  
  
  
Kurt was one oblivious sixteen year old. Only nine months older than me, and six older than Kitty Pryde, who would (Aack!) get her licensee in September, he still acted ten years younger than he was, munching on the sandwich that he, yet again, mysteriously found' in the fridge. Creeping in, still with Ille wrapped tightly around me like a winter scarf, I started to work. I also learned in the past two weeks that I could not only make Ille make sound as I had done previously, but I could also make it's opposite.  
  
And since it was 3:37 AM and I needed the blender, this power was a godsend. Unfortunately, though, I had to work quickly, because I also learned, the hard way (I tried to use a force field' to make myself fly), that i could keep up my force fields' and sounds' for a matter of a minute twenty- one seconds at a time (that was my most recent record) but my images I could hold for about an hour before the throbbing headaches set in. So as I ran the blender at thirty- second intervals, I poured the entire remaining contents of the squeeze bottle into it (which was now only down to about a teaspoon's worth), as well as three scoops of vanilla ice cream, cinnamon, chocolate shards, and chocolate milk. The contents of the squeeze bottle were the pride and joy of my life's work so far experimenting with all that is sweet, however. No, it was no truth potion, or anything magical, for that matter, but it was INCREDIBLY good homemade chocolate syrup. I had to keep it in my room only because it was very concentrated- I did not want someone accidentally drinking it straight ot of the bottle by accident- especially since I kept the stuff in washed out Yoo-Hoo containers. After my last blender interval, I poured most of the contents out into two giant mugs, shook up some whipped cream, and topped both with that and the normal Hershey's syrup stuff. I finished off by slicing another banana and making two more P-BB-N sandwiches.  
  
All the while, I kept watch to see if I was noticed. The entire time, though, Kurt was oblivious! Even when he'd finished the sandwich, he sort of just sat there, twitching his tail. I think he was attempting to fall back to sleep away from Jean, but the moment I opened the Nutella bottle he shot up like a cannon and started sniffing the air.  
  
I dropped my Ille, relived anyway because my head was starting to throb again.  
  
So YOU'VE been leaving me those sandviches, Kurt said, a little shocked. I thought it vas Kitty-  
  
Both of us turned, seeing her in the doorway. Can I join the midnight club, too?  
  
Uh, sure, I said. Pointing to what was left in the blender, I added, Want some, too?  
  
No meat? she asked.  
  
Unless you consider ice cream to be against your religion, no.  
  
I'm , like, so not a vegan. You, like, can't even take some medicines.  
  
I poured the rest of the drink into another mug, adding whipped cream and Hershey's, then finished making the sandwiches, adding one more.  
  
The three of us sat down and I passed a sandwich to each of them. Kitty looked at hers awkwardly for a few moments, took a small corner bite, then wolfed the entire thing down. I didn't pass the mugs yet, I was waiting for the aroma of it to fill the room. As Kurt slowly munched on his P-BB-N, I noticed that besides him sniffing the air at the smell of the drinks, he acted completely different at night, much... quieter.  
  
Vas es das? he asked, jabbing his thumb at the mugs.  
  
A _Bribe_, I replied simply, meaning both the drink's name and it's use. I'll give you one if you tell me why Jean's crying has been keeping you up at night.  
  
I vould have told you anyvay. I vas going to ask you for advice at breakfast, but... HEY! Vere you listening to my phone conversation vith my muther?!?  
  
Kitty laughed. I heard it, too. I went onto Dictionary.com on my laptop as you were talking for a translation. That's why I came down.  
  
Do I have to learn Svahili to keep you people from listening in? he asked, but he was smiling again.  
  
The only reason I did was because of your odd shift in sleeping patterns, I said. I understand making calls at night to Germany so that your family can receive them at a considerable time, but...  
  
You wouldn't be THAT grumpy with talking to them unless they, like, rented out your room back home! Kitty finished for me. Kurt, your our friend, and we care. I know you try to be all macho about it, but...  
  
Thank you for caring, he said. But I don't knou anything about vy Jean's been crying. She doesn't come up to me and say, Oh, sorry for keeping you up Kurt, but I've been vhyning because...'  
  
Then, let Operation Save Kurt's Sleep' begin! I said, as I got up and passed out Bribes to two of my best mutant friends.


	15. 2: Or Maybe a Sleeping Draught

Professor Xavier found the three of us sleeping like babies at the kitchen table the next morning, even though it was my day to cook breakfast. The last thing I had remembered from the night before was getting really sleepy from my drink, then hearing the far- off thud sound of all three of our heads hitting the table out of weariness.  
  
Sara, can I speak with you, alone? the Professor asked me, as soon as he knew the three of us were all awake.  
  
I said, as I rubbed my sore neck.  
  
What religion is your family, exactly? he asked, as soon as we were away from the rest of the residents, who were all groaning over having to eat cereal that morning. I wondered what kind of question he was really trying to ask me, but then I realized he knew exactly what happened. He was trying not to pry information from me and would rather have me tell him as much as possible.  
  
We are Jewish, but one of my aunts and her entire family is Wikka. She taught me how to use certain kinds of tree bark in recipes meant to calm nerves and act as a healthier sweetener. A certain part of the cork cambium found in the sakura tree's trunk was in the chocolate syrup in the drink. But it doesn't knock out a person that hard. Or at all, for that matter. Except...  
  
Except what? Professor Xavier actually looked surprised from my response.  
  
One of my friends would always fall asleep like that just after using it. And I started to, too, after the gymnastics incident which revealed my powers to me. It never occurred to me until now.  
  
Certain substances have an alternate effect to the mutant population, Sara. If you're going to continue to make that syrup, either leave the, the...  
  
Sakura cork cambium  
  
...er, yes, sakura cork cambium out of your recipes or use it with permission from your peers. But can you make more for me? I'd like to have Mr. McCoy run some tests on it. It seems as if this syrup of yours can detect a mutant.  
  
Wouldn't this friend of mine have shown up on your Cerebro? Would my stuff be all that useful?  
  
You are the only one from that area that has shown up. That's what I find so interesting. I'm going to scan your friend by name, maybe it might come up. Could you tell me who it is?  
  
Jen... Jennifer Aerith Maklo.  
  
  
  
Even though Professor Xavier wasn't mad, which I did expect from a compassionate person like him, he would let me continue to make the syrup with no alterations in the recipe. I would have thought my aunt's herb books and everything else of the sort would be banned from the mansion. He'd ask politely but he still would ban them, with reason. Maybe... maybe he knows about all of us up in the middle of the night! Or maybe Wolverine spies for him... or he reads everyone's minds and he's already found out my desire to get on Iron Chef someday, even though, to my knowledge, there's never been a girl cooking on the real Japanese version of that show... Heck, for all I know, he could be asking the CIA to do research on me to see if I'm not a spy. My imagination is just too much, even for me. Heh.  
  
I went back to my room, ripped the little sheet off my calendar, to reveal a Wednesday, July 2, 2003 staring me back in the face, then I smelled sulfur. Kurt, Kitty, and Ju stood in the doorway to the room.  
  
They told me what happened last night, Ju said quietly. I was the one to find the three of you at the table this morning.  
  
Yeah. Seems as if my famous drink can detect mutants, I replied, a little sarcastically. It'll calm down a human, but put any mutant to sleep.  
  
Vell, that solves my insomnia, Kurt replied. Everyone laughed.  
  
Yeah, now we just need to get Jean to shut up. I have an idea- Friday night at the July 4th party, you distract, I sneak in and grab her diary. Maybe there's something in there.  
  
Jean, like, keeps a diary? Kitty was shocked.  
  
Eh, I've been practicing my invisibility. Maybe... I should shut up now?  
  
Momentary, awkward silence.  
  
Vy don't ve hit the mall today? That neu game Death Vaurs XXVII is out.  
  
Ok, Crawler, start up the car. I gotta get my purse.  
  
Like, ditto!  
  
And in a split second, Kurt went poof and Kitty phased out, leaving Ju and me in our room.  
  
I said, trying to be nice, you have it made. It's like a Utopia here and you don't even know it. When the worst thing you have to worry about a roommate is their snoring, and a classmate keeping a friend up, it seems too unreal.  
  
Ju turned to me, shocked. What do you mean? You live here too.  
  
But I've been on the outside looking in. There's just something here that's been bothering me. Horribly.  
  
  
  
It's a man by the name of Mr. Clampe. Mr. Robert Aven Clampe- my parent's main benifactary for their organization. I made those drinks for my family once when he was over. He fell asleep faster than a jackrabbit with tobasco sauce. And Jen... a while ago she stopped drinking anything in public; we had to push her even just among us just to take water, she tried my stuff once too, at a sleep over party. I thought nothing of the fact that she conked out moments later. She stopped swimming, and had notes in school excusing her from anything that touched liquid of any kind. That was just about the time that... that... I started having weird dreams. Stuff that actually came true. I thought that when I came here, the place would be a haven. So far, I've gotten my curse. I don't know what's going on. I can't think what would happen if I really am playing God.  
  
A burning sensation flooded my body, right from where my bumps were. I was no illusionist. I made stuff real. I was the world. The universe. Dropping down to my knees, I wished that time would stand still, my pain would go away. I cried, and a flood of rain ran down both my cheeks and the windowpanes revealing the outside.  
  
Give me freedom! i yelled, but time stood still and my words were hollow, reaching nothing.  
  
_Shut up. You already have it. What else do you need?_'  
  
You- you're doing this!  
  
_No, you are. It is not your dreams that have created your reality. Nor your illusionism. Time stands still because you made it so! You are no illusionist, you are an artist! The world is your palette!_'  
  
I don't need this. I'm not going to pull strings. The would cannot be sugary- I have fallen into the hedge. I don't need a Utopia. I need to know mortality!  
  
Go ahead.'  
  
Ille materialized. A towering witch of her own accord. But she was no my own doing. She handed me a dagger and the smile of Malificent.  
  
It is your choice.'  
  
Time frozen, the world spun, and with the strike of a million pupated souls, I struck naught my heart, but my side, slicing off several layers of skin where my horrible disease reigned. The sound of shrieking was heard throughout the halls, but it was not mine. It was Ille, the master puppeteer.  
  
I laughed as the pain of losing several layers of skin began to sink in. I watched the small mass of stuff creep out of the crack in our window as time unfroze. Jubilee ran to my side and just before my eyes decided to shut themselves, I mumbled to the Hitler of mutants...  
  
The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft a-gley.  
  
Then I passed out, scarred with a numbered tattoo- the remains of the skin left behind- in the arms of a friend.  
  
--Poe Note--  
I just looked over my old work (aka chapters 1-9) which I wrote over a year ago, and I realized something- my ideas of where I wanted the story to go were much different then than now. To respond, I am going to rewrite those first few chapters where I see fit. Risty will still be in this saga, but not in this story (I'm planning a sequel with Jen in it when the mutants go back to school for another year. That means- yep- Scott's off to college, too.). So I suggest you guys wait a week or two then start my story over- I may alter some of my later chapters too. I actually have a plot laid out this time around (and over a year of English classes under my belt), and the bumps were a mutant latched onto Sara, to end any confusion.  
  
Oh, and The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft a-gley is a line from the poem which the book Of Mice and Men got it's title from. I don't remember the author or title of the poem, but as soon as I scrape it out of my English 1 binder I'll let you know. Gang aft a-gley means to not go as planned.


	16. 3: DNA Testing is Way Over My Head

Forgive me for two things-  
1. Being Late. It seems as if FF.net has been having problems, too.  
2. The following.... --Really Long Poe Note-- AACK!!  
  
First, Robert Burns wrote that poem that I quoted in the last chapter.  
  
Second, the angst was temporary, Pruningshears. It was evident in the prologue, even _before_ the corrections (speaking of which, it's been fixed) Also, whoever was confused, don't worry. It was just a cliffhanger. If you want to see why Sara has this sudden' angst, read the prologue over, chapters 1-6, that's 1-11 revised. It's shorter, condensed, and fixed with what those eczema bumps actually were.  
  
For those who are too lazy, here's a synopsis----  
  
_Sara , as she goes home from school on the day of the Magneto attack, has two fights with this voice in her head, one when she's about to punch Magneto, and one more when she gets home (she nearly, but accidentally kills herself the second time). This was what she thought was Ille speaking to her, but, according to Professor Xavier from the alternate narrative sequences, we find that Sara gained an entire extra set of chromosomes somewhere after she was four. Someone, or something, actually latched onto the poor kid.- and onto her back, which is why it always hurt whenever Sara mentally argued with it._  
  
That's why the angst is in the last chapter. But for Sara, it's over now. But we do find out why Jean is crying in the next chapter, and what the actually is that my whole first chapter talks about. And the story title is named after, for Pete's (or Kurt Wagner's) sake.  
  
Also, Mr. Clampe will be back, and Jen, too, just not in this story (dodges rotten vegetables). My sequel, entitled _Licensed to Kitty_, will be out... when this one is done (dodges more rotten vegetables and ducks to avoid a cow the French from Monty Python and the Holy Grail have flung at me). Three more recruits come (Salve, Whiplash, and Mizukage- you try to figure out their powers [you might need to learn a little Japanese, while you're at it]), Kitty gets a surprise sweet sixteen, and Mr. Clampe visits the mansion... hmm... especially since one of the three new recruits is, guess who?, Jen Maklo!!  
  
Another thing that I noticed is this Friends of Humanity business. I didn't realize it was already an organization in the X-Men world with very different views on how mutants fit into society as the real' FoH are blatantly baised mutant haters, until much later when I accidentally stumbled upon an excellent web site known as Mutatus Mutandius, which has on record every single character ever to appear in any X-Men related work.  
  
(pauses to breathe after that long sentence) In. Out. In. Out. Ahhh. That's better.  
  
Well, my FoH is slightly different, and I am not going back to change it. So deal.  
  
--End of Really Long Poe Note-- (phew!)  
  
On with the story! (now an official after she says a Poe-Note catch phrase, copyright 38662957.6 as of June 12, 2003)  
  
... but Mousie, thou art no thy lane... I mumbled under my breath, then realizing I was reciting Robert Burns poetry, I shot up   
  
I heard myself cry, but for the first in a long time, every muscle in my body was sore. I fell back into my pillow, exhausted. Looking at the ceiling, I realized I was in the infirmary.  
  
Hmm, seems as ef I am not ze only one vho says zhat. Everyvone else zinks it veird.  
  
I asked, then slowly and painfully turned to my side to see a blue, fuzzy stuffed animal staring back at me...  
  
...as well as Kurt.  
  
My old blue raccoon, Tibias, had somehow been salvaged and was laying to the left of me just next to Kurt. Suddenly I realized why. My parents, Catie, and Mike were standing beside him. Catie was a bit disgruntled by the mutant leaning at my bedside, it seemed, but she obviously had already gotten over her initial shock.  
  
Ach, so Sleeping Beauty _is_ avake!  
  
For a moment I thought it to be Kurt who spoke the last statement, but it was just my brother with his impersonations again. I could see the authentic German smirking a bit, stifling his laughter with a three fingered hand. Obviously Catie had never noticed these before; she seemed to jump back a little.  
  
I hard the soft sounds of an electric wheelchair rolling on carpet, then said the loudest I could, The professor is coming, though it only to be just above a whisper.  
  
Without moving from his seat at my bedside, Kurt grabbed the doorknob by his tail to open the door. In wheeled Professor X and walked in Kitty, and the already stuffy whitewashed room was choking my air supply. Six sets of eyes were upon me, as well as Professor McCoy's, which I could vaguely make out in the background of it all. The professor wheeled around to my bedside to the only remaining free spot at the far right, but then when Mr. McCoy attempted to squeeze in between Kitty and Catie, I smelled brimstone. Kurt had ported off, but not very far- just to a pole that jutted out of the ceiling, put there for him to hang from- and gave the lumbering science professor with a large test tube a choice spot on my far left.  
  
I've checked over your blood, Sara, and it seems perfectly normal. But I did remove the remaining skin from your back. Your family and Catie came in late last night to make sure you were all right. And for a short time, we weren't sure, until after the skin was removed. Until then, even though you were still breating, you had absolutely no pulse. Mr. McCoy looked baffed by his own statements, as baffled as a blue coloured ape can be, but he wasn't finished. He swallowed uneasily, then continued, I would ask that everyone except for me and the Professor to leave. This next thing only Sara should hear. If she wishes to explain it to everyone else, she should have the choice to do so.  
  
With that, my family and Catie were escorted out by Kitty (through the wall, might I add) and a small cloud of brimsotne- smelling gas fumed the air above my head.  
  
Pointing at the test tube, Professor McCoy continued. I saved the rest of the skin; I've been running tests on it all day. You've been out for a little over twenty- four hours.  
  
Oh. It's only July 3. Good.  
  
Mr. McCoy handed me a stack of papers runnung with information. Fortunately they had been enlarged 127%, as they always needed to be for my schoolwork.  
  
Tell me what _you_ make of these.  
  
I scanned through them, trying to get something coherent out of the mess of information. Then I realized exacly what it was. It was data on a woman, a woman by the name of Nerida Hellen- every newspaper clipping, every fingerprinting, her genome map, every moment she'd spent in jail, her mysterious dissapearences, the people who went insane and could only say her name... and yet I couln't figure out what that had to do with me. Until I saw the last section in the packet. It was my gene map, then the map from the skin sample on my back that remained. I flipped back to Nerida's map, then to this one. They were identical. Every fragment of DNA. Identical.  
  
--Poe Note--  
Sorry this was short. :-(  
  
Finals have been killing me. But I just finished school yesterday! And I got my finals back! And I hate to brag, but I need to vent this somewhere (I don't tell my friends these things) I got a 107% in Crafts! An 88% in Spanish 3! An 87% in English Honors 1! A 99% in Honors World History! An 82% in Honors Geometry! A 96% in American Experiment (an extra, mandatory Social Studies class for freshmen)! And  
  
A 101% IN HONORS BIOLOGY!!!!! EAT THAT MR. BLANDER!!!!  
  
Thank you for putting up with me. Have a great summer everyone, and I will update when I'm not in camp. Hopefully, that's more than a chapter a week to compensate for this, and when I'm gone for those six weeks.


	17. 4: And So Are a Lot of Other Things

--Poe Note--   
  
Firstly, I wanted to let you know that Fanfiction.net has been really slow, sometimes even down, lately, so my updates haven't been shown immediately. Possibly because a lot of people are posting now that school is out (at least on the East Coast and other parts of the northern US- schools elsewhere in the US finished in May, or as in certain spots of Nevada, have air conditioning and year- round schooling). I wish we had air in our schools, too (but the rumor is that our school board will only put it in if we go year- round). In that case, I'd much rather be sweating in school, thankyouverymuch.  
  
Secondly, this is to my fellow fan fiction writers. I don't know how to put this nicely, but I'll try- **_Please, from the bottom of my heart, spell check and grammar check your work before putting it on._** Sure, things will slip through the filter (I've noticed so many errors in my works, mostly forgetting to capitalize my I's) but try to look your stuff over. Please. I don't know how many stories I've read without proper punctuation. 'Lumps' are even worse- when someone forgets to separate out their paragraphs and it all is one large lump Without separation, especially when reading conversational paragraphs, it's almost impossible to decipher who is speaking! Now, I'm not saying ALL fan fiction writers do this; it's just the opposite, as very few do. However, I just cannot stand it when I'm reading what could have been an excellent story if it had just been checked over.  
  
(Oh, did you know that I' is the most commonly used word in the English language? A little sad, if you think about it.)  
  
On with the story! :-)  
  
Identical?  
  
Yes.  
  
Impossible?  
  
Obviously not.  
  
Professor McCoy asked me. I see you've noticed something interesting.  
  
This woman- Nerida Hellen- was attached to my back? I asked, though I already realized the answer. But how?  
  
First, you are going to need to learn a little genetics to understand, Sara. The X gene, the one that determines mutancy, is attached to the X chromosome- hence its name. That's the gender chromosome.  
  
Yeah, a girl has XX and a boy has XY. You get one from each parent. The mother can only give out X's and the father determines the gender because he can give out either the X or the Y, I said, still weakly, but my strength was beginning to return to me. I wondered exactly genetics had to do with a woman attached to my back and the fact that I was hearing voices, but knowing Mr. McCoy, he would take time explaining something to make sure the recipient understood completely before applying it to the real topic of discussion. After all, he **was** a science teacher.  
  
Mr. McCoy continues with his genetics lesson. Right. But the _entire gene_ is recessive. Which means that it is twice as easy for a man to be a mutant than a woman. A woman must get one altered X chromosome from each parent, a man only from the mother as the father gives the Y chromosome. The Y chromosome cannot contain the X gene; it is too small. It is the same with certain diseases, like hemophilia and color blindness- men get them much more often because they only need the problem on the X chromosome to have it.  
  
But wouldn't that mean that any woman who is a mutant has a mutant for a father? After all, he gave out a copy of his only altered X to his daughter. And if he gives out the mutant causing X, he must _have_ that mutant causing X, I said, thinking I'd caught his science in its tracks.  
  
No. And that is a good question because it also explains why each mutant is distinctly different, but related ones have similarities in their looks or powers. Your father isn't a mutant because the way the X gene comes into the general populace- it is accidentally created during meiosis when a piece of chromosome 18 accidentally breaks off and fuses onto the X chromosome backwards. When this happens, the size of the piece differs form person to person. But meiosis does not affect a specimen; just its offspring. Once it is in the populace, this is true, however. For example, now that you have two of the mutant gene, one on each X chromosome, any sons you have will have to be mutants because no matter which of the two X's you give them, they will be affected. Those hypothetical mutant sons' mutant powers will be very similar, possibly identical to each other, _but not to your own_. They will only receive one of the two X's you have, which would each have different sized piece of chromosome 18 attached, causing different effects. Any daughters you have will only be carriers of your mutant gene unless you have children with a mutant. Then, your daughters will all have similar mutant powers to each other, but they will be unlike you, your hypothetical husband's, or your hypothetical sons. That's why Scott and his brother Alex can both shoot lasers, but from different parts of their bodies, yet both their parents were normal.  
  
I pondered over this for a moment. This meant simply- you could tell if someone had the X-gene if their X chromosome was longer than normal!  
  
Nerida Hellen- is she a mutant, too? I asked.  
  
Professor McCoy pulled out four gene maps. This one is the map of two normal X chromosomes. This one, your two X chromosomes. This- the map of Nerida's. The last is my own single X chromosome.  
  
I studied the four gene maps. The first map had two identically sized X chromosomes- the normal ones. Next came my two X's- one was longer than the other, but they were both longer than the ones in the first picture. Nerida's were much, much longer than my own, both also different sizes. Lastly, Professor McCoy's single X was the longest of all, but only barely longer that Nerida's longer one.  
  
The longer the piece of Chromosome 18 that attached on, the less humanlike the mutant, Professor McCoy added. We don't know exactly what Nerida can do, but as you can see from the information Xavier has gathered, it seems as if her powers involve driving people insane- messing with their heads. Whatever she is, she won't look human. She also doesn't show up on Cerebro at all.  
  
I held my breath for a moment, staring into space. So I wasn't crazy after all. It was her doing.  
  
She may not show up on Cerebro because she latches herself onto her target. She's a leech. Several times, it felt like I was trying to kill myself- I couldn't control it. The worst time was right after I knocked out Magneto, back in the fist week of May. There are certain parasites that can actually control their hosts. There's one that must reproduce in cats, but can only parasite off of a mouse. So it takes over the mouse's brain and makes the mouse host sit in front of a cat so it can be eaten- getting the parasite into the cat, I said, then realizing that my strength was returning rapidly. I could now sit up and stretch just fine.  
  
Did you ever see her, Sara? Professor Xavier asked me.  
  
  
  
Do you know anything about her?  
  
Aside from the fact that she was trying to make me think that I was a schizophrenic- no.  
  
Both professors had awkward looks to their faces. Brow lines appeared on both- deep in thought presumably. After all, Nerida just seemed like the kind of person who would want something. Why would she just latch onto people and make them go crazy? For the fun of it?  
  
Somehow, after the eleven years I'd spent with her, and the information before me, it seemed unlikely. I had to sort this out on my own. More importantly, I had a date with the members of Operation: Save Kurt's Sleep- we still needed to find out the cause of Jean's relentless whimpering.  
  
May I be excused? I asked, obviously breaking my professors' concentrations.  
  
I- I don't see why not, Mr. McCoy replied, as he lumbered back to the far corner where the heavy equipment resided.  
  
  
  
One hour later that afternoon, outside by the pool as the sun was setting, the four of us were deep in conversation as my friend Catie was challenging Wolfsbane to swimming races in the enormous inground pool and my brother and Scott were playing tennis as my parents watched. My family and Catie were staying until July sixth, to celebrate the holiday and make sure I was feeling better, complicating Operation: Save Kurt's Sleep plans a little.  
  
I mused on what had happened the previous hour as I conversed- Jubilee was shocked to see me walk right out of the infirmary on my own, just as she was about to carry in a steaming pot of green tea- almost spilling it all over if it hadn't been for my force field (which for some reason, was no longer giving me a major throbbing headache, just a minor one that felt, almost... distant). All the while, we were all chatting away about what exactly had happened the previous morning.  
  
After you fell unconscious, the mass that you cut off fell to the ground and shpt straight though the window.  
  
It could phase- like Kitty?  
  
At the sound of her name, Kitty grew more interested. As she never saw what happened, it probably would have been interesting if he found a mutant with an identical power. But then- wouldn't that mean they were related in some way? I shuddered at the thought of Kitty and Nerida being related, but my apprehensive thoughts abated at Jubilee's response.  
  
No- it broke the glass, ramming into it and then slithering out. I was too scared to do anything, then you started mumbling something which Rahne informed me later was Scottish, and the window fixed itself.  
  
Weird. That's not on my list.  
  
Kurt looked perplexed. Your VHAT?  
  
List. Of languages I know. That'd be English- well duh-, French, German, Japanese, Swedish, Norwegian, Hebrew, Spanish, and I study Egyptian hieroglyphics in my free time, too.  
  
Do you, like, have a life? Kitty questioned jokingly.  
  
Nah, not really. I sleep five hours a night. But going back onto the subject... Ju, what happened next?  
  
You wouldn't stop muttering, then your language shifted. You started repeating Akuryo Taijan- or something like that- over and over again. When Professor McCoy went to sedate you, you started reciting poetry. Do you know what that other thing you were saying meant? It sounded like a warning to me.  
  
Akuryo Taijan... Akuryo Taijan... that's it! By any chance could it have been Akuryo _Taisan_ that I said?  
  
  
  
That's a Japanese spell, said to ward off evil spirits.  
  
You sounded like you'd cracked. You were flinging yourself all over the floor.  
  
And I don't seem to remember any of it.  
  
Kurt cut in again. Veird. None of zis seems to make sense at all. He shrugged, then added, Jean vas sobbing so hard at ze moment she vouldn't even leave her room.  
  
She's still blubbering? I inquired.  
  
  
  
Any ideas?  
  
I, like, did overhear her talking with Duncan. A lot. Maybe they're, like, breaking up or something? Kitty statement- questioned. As much as I liked her, the way she talked was beginning to get on my nerves.  
  
Nein- zey are in a band together or something. Zere's some big concert coming up.  
  
What does that have to do with Duncan and Jean breaking up or not?  
  
Kurt was caught, dead in his own tracks.  
  
I didn't mean to snoop (--Poe- Note-- Notice something, folks? Just had to stick that in there. I loved the way Cunnings said the line in the movie. Man, I sound stupid.). Honest. Just, zat, ven Sara vas in ze infirmary, so vas everyvone else in ze school. Except Jean, of course. So, naturally, it vas a perfect opportunity.  
  
I smiled. as I leaned back in my chair.  
  
Like, you stinkbomb, save that for the judge, Kitty said, as she pushed a fully clothed Kurt into the pool.  
  
--Poe Note--  
  
My longest chapter ever! Over 2,000 words, and seven pages on my word processor! Wow! Next week's chapter will be about July 4, and some O:SKS infiltration of Jean's room, maybe a visit from the Brotherhood or Nerida...  
  
You'll have to wait. Sorry!  
  
Neener neener neener!  
  
:-) Raven


	18. A Brick Wall: Not A Chapter At All

I've hit a brick wall on this story- plus I'm going to camp in two weeks. I'll update again in September. Till then, enjoy my new fic. This one is not entirely cancelled, it is on hiatus. I do specifically remeber saying there would be a sequel, and I don't break that kind of promise. Thanks!


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